“Who’s she marrying?” Prince William was taken but Harry was still available.

“She’s remarrying her son of a bitch ex, Sam Leclaire.”

The name sounded vaguely familiar.

“He’s a hockey player with Seattle.”

Sadie tapped the mouth of the bottle against her chin. “Hmm.” She went to a lot of Coyotes games and was an Ed Jovanovski fan. “Big guy? Even for a hockey player. Likes to instigate? Spends a lot of time in the penalty box? Blond? Hot?”

“Sounds like him. Except for the hot part.”

“I saw him play the Coyotes in Phoenix a few months ago.” She set the bottle next to her on the desk and, because Vince’s green eyes narrowed again and she found him even more handsome when he was all irritated, she added, “He’s smokin’ hot. Or as we say in Texas, ‘hotter than a goat’s butt in a pepper patch.’ ”

“Jesus.”

“And that’s really hot.” She turned her mouth upside down in a fake frown. “Don’t be bitter.”

He frowned as he raised the bottle, but she doubted he was truly mad. She was fairly sure his ego could take the hit.

“Don’t worry.” She shook her head and chuckled. “You’re really hot, too . . . for a guy old enough to be Becca’s dad.”

He lowered the bottle without taking a drink. “Are you going to laugh yourself into a fit about that again?”

“Maybe. It’s just the gift that keeps giving.” She stood and reached for the handle of the sledgehammer.

“What are you going to do with that?”

“Worried?” She tried to lift it with one hand. It hardly budged.

“Terrified.”

“How much does this thing weigh?”

“Twenty pounds.” He moved toward her and set his beer next to hers.

She used both hands and lifted it a foot off the floor. “I could get a lot of frustrations out and do a lot of damage with this thing.”

With one hand, he took it easily from her grasp and tossed it behind him. It hit the floor with a hard thud. “I know a better way to get your frustrations out.” His palms slid to her waist and he pulled her hips against his.

She looked up into his face, at his eyes staring down into hers. “What did you have in mind?” she asked, even though against her pelvis she felt exactly what was on the man’s mind.

“Doing damage.” He lowered his face and pressed his forehead into hers. “Lots of damage.”

Heat warmed the pit of her stomach and spread to her thighs. She wanted to press her body against him. Skin against skin. This was why she’d stopped by the Gas and Go. She could have fueled her car in Amarillo or the Chevron across town. She pulled at his T-shirt and tugged the end from the waistband of his pants. “I’ve had a rough couple of days.” She slid her hands beneath and touched the warm, damp skin of his hard belly. “I don’t want to hurt you, Vince.”

“Do your worst,” he said against her lips, a whisper of breath, and she breathed him in. Breathed in his need as hot and fiery as her own. The kiss was surprisingly soft and almost sweet, while against the apex of her thighs, he pressed his ridged erection into her. Lust pooled and burned and she parted her lips beneath his. She kissed him, full-mouthed and hungry. Hungry for more of what he’d given her a few nights ago. Hungry for him to fill her body if not her heart.

She wanted to touch him and for him to touch her. She wanted him to fill up the lonely places, but even as he touched her as she wanted, she knew not to want him too much. He’d made it clear that all he wanted was sex. No dinner. No movies. No conversation. And right now, that’s all she wanted, too.

He stripped her to her panties and plopped her down on his desk. He stepped between her thighs, and his hands and mouth moved to her breasts. She arched her back and planted her hands on the desk behind her. His warm, slick tongue drove her insane, and when he finally sucked her nipple into his hot, wet mouth, she moaned and her head fell back.

She didn’t love him, but she loved what he did to her. She loved the way he touched and kissed, and by the time he entered her, she loved that most. She planted her feet on the desk and he looked down at her, lust narrowing his green eyes and parting his lips. His hands grabbed her knees and his fingers dug into the tops of her skin. He moved inside her, thrusting deep and stroking all the good spots. His big chest expanded as he pulled air into his powerful lungs.

A warm, tingly orgasm started at her toes and worked its way through her body. It worked her up and down and inside out, and when it finished working its magic, it left a smile on her face.

“Hooyah.”


Through the open windows, a cool evening breeze stirred the lace curtains in Sadie’s bedroom. A nightstand lamp cast a nice, warm glow across the bed and Sadie’s soft shoulder and the side of her smooth face. Vince slid his hand to Sadie’s bare belly and pulled her back against his chest.

“Are you asleep?” he asked as his thumb fanned her stomach.

“No.” She shook her head and yawned. “Tuckered out though. Geez, did I just say ‘tuckered’?”

He smiled and kissed her neck. He wasn’t the least bit tired. After they’d left the Gas and Go, he’d grabbed a pizza from Lovett Pizza and Pasta and met her at the ranch. They’d eaten, then had sex in the bathtub, which hadn’t been easy, but they’d managed. Afterward, he’d watched as she’d dried her hair and put lotion on her elbows and feet. It smelled like lemons.

“I worked the hell out of selling those dresses,” she’d told him as she sat on a white chair in the bathroom and put lotion on her heels. She’d worn a pair of pink panties and he’d sat on the edge of the tub wearing his cargos. He didn’t think he’d ever just sat and watched a woman rub lotion on herself before. He’d liked the view. “I don’t think I ever acted so ridiculous about a dress. I know prom is important, but sheesh.”

He still wasn’t real clear on how she’d come to work for Deeann Gunderson in the first place. Maybe if she wasn’t talking while she was half naked, her little pink panties barely covering the pink beneath, he’d be able to focus on what she was saying.

“Those girls acted like they were at Vera Wang.” She glanced up and squirted lotion into her palm. “I blame Rachel Zoe.”

“Who?” He looked up and attempted to pay attention.

“Celebrity stylist Rachel Zoe? She has her own show on Bravo? Gets fabulous designer gowns and shoes? Just had a baby boy with her husband, Rodge? Any of this sound familiar?”

He shook his head and scratched his bare chest. That’s what he got for trying to pay attention.

“She’s like the Martha Stewart of clothes and accessories. She has great style and taste and makes the rest of us feel like inadequate slobs.” She’d looked up at him and sighed. “Don’t tell me you’ve never heard of Martha Stewart.”

“The lady who spent time in federal prison? I heard of her.”

She stared across the bathroom at him. “She’s more famous for her stunning cakes.”

His gaze slid to her stunning breasts. At her little pink nipples that fit perfectly into his mouth. Sadie had a beautiful body. A woman’s body, and she wasn’t shy about walking around naked. He liked that about her. He liked that she was confident and open to sex on a desk in a destroyed office. He liked that she didn’t play games. And as hypocritical as it was coming from a guy who’d hooked up with his share of random women, he liked that she didn’t hang out in bars and hook up with random men. At least, not any that he knew about.

He liked a lot of things about her. No matter her difficult relationship with her father, she’d stayed in town and visited him every day. He liked that she laughed easily. Sometimes at him. Most surprising, he liked that she talked to fill up the silence, even when he wasn’t paying all that much attention. Like now as she squirted lotion in her palms and rubbed it into the soft skin of her inner thighs. Holy hell. She smelled like lemon. He liked lemon. He liked inner thighs, too.

“Vince?”

“Yeah?” He returned his gaze to hers.

“I asked you a question.”

He’d been trained by the finest military in the world. He could pay attention to several things at once if he chose. “What?”

She rolled her eyes. “Do you always yell ‘hooyah’ when you orgasm?”

How had they gone from talking about cake to orgasms? “I yell ‘hooyah’?”

“Well, more like a groan.”

He didn’t know that. “That’s embarrassing.”

“No one’s ever told you?”

He shook his head and rose to his feet. “Maybe I only hooyah for you.” He walked across the tiled floor toward her. “Do you always ululate like an Arab woman when you orgasm?”

She laughed and looked up at him. “That’s embarrassing. No one’s ever mentioned it before you.”

He knelt between her knees and slid his hands up her bare, smooth thighs. The tips of his fingers touched the elastic legs of her panties. “Maybe no one else has what it takes.”

She sucked in a breath and held it. “Apparently you ululate me.”

“Hooyah.” His thumbs brushed her through the thin cotton and he took her breast into his mouth. He licked and sucked until her nipples were hard, and then he lowered his mouth and buried his face between her legs. He pushed aside the crotch of her underwear, and he’d licked and sucked her there, too.

“Vince.” She hadn’t ululated. No yelling nor howling. Just a soft moan of his name in the still room. The sound of her pleasure as sweet as the taste of her in his mouth. When he’d entered her tight body, he’d held her face in his hands and watched the pleasure part her lips. He’d felt it grip his dick, contract and pulse and massage his own pleasure.

He lightly bit her bare shoulder. “I’ll go and let you sleep.”

Her yawn whispered in the darkness. “You can stay if you want.”

He never stayed. Leaving in the morning was always more awkward than leaving the night before.